The Frighteningly Horrible Truth About Ms Bitters
by Lizzy733
Summary: There's always been something creepy about that ancient woman... *le gasp* I updated...
1. Something's a Bit Off

The Frighteningly Horrible Truth About Ms Bitters  
  
Yet another disturbingly twisted tale has decided it must weasel its way out of my brain and express itself in a typed form. I expect by now that you all know and fear these random outbursts o mine and are inclined to read no further as it might cause you psychological damage in some way. I, myself, am not immune to the occasional bought of insanity brought about by my own way of thinking. Fear for me; fear for yourselves. Now, read on you person who begs for something to do other than exist!  
  
I amuse you with my plots no? I do not amuse you with my originally original characters as I have none. I, sadly, have to say that nickelodeon owns them because of an evil thing they did to a particular guy with the last name of Vasquez. I hear there were monkeys involved, as well as explosions, but this is all hearsay. Now.... READ!  
  
It was a Monday. Oh what a horrible day that is. So horrible in fact that not a one of the children present was able to stand the growing feeling of monotony. To make matters worse, the planet earth had recently decided to tilt dangerously close to the sun and subjugate the young to the annual torture of paranoid school boards who are unwilling to supply classrooms with sufficient air conditioning as it might force them to cease the serving of green jello in the skool cafeteria due to lack of funds.  
  
"That..." quoted one skool official, "would be a tragedy!"  
  
But enough of green food stuffs, for look... there! One of the children is shriveling up into a shlong-like cucumber thingy! Or perhaps you shouldn't look... that is a horribly scarring thing to force on one's eyes. But do look at the trench coat clad boy sitting by the window. Something makes me think he is dumb. Maybe it's that he looks a little 'different' from everybody else, maybe it's because the whole school hails him as insane, maybe it's because the horrendous heat being magnified by the window is causing him to smolder, also, a slight amount of drool is leaking its way out from the corner of his mouth. His largely deformed head also appears swollen, making one think him retarded.  
  
On the other side of the room, far from the drooling, sun-scorched boy is a boy who is not a boy at all, but would be revealed to be none other than Invader Zim, the horrible alien who is not only older than any human alive, but also plans on destroying the world at any given time. The fact that he does not know when 'any given time' is poses a problem to him and his world dooming, therefore he is sitting there, writing a story on a little pad. This story is about him dooming the world.  
  
"Zim!" comes a grating voice from a dark being who in no way was enjoying the weather, other than it was hot.  
  
The alien boy was surprised that the woman would have interrupted him in this his most climactic ending to the world as we know it.  
  
"Is it more important to you to waste paper than to listen to my enlightening lesson on the first true 'Death March'?"  
  
"I am writing a story about worldly demise!" cackles the child-like alien in his self-appreciating way.  
  
"You might think such a thing important" shouts the teacher, "but I am ten times as old as you and only I know what you truly must devote your time to! Succumb to the lifestyle which so many have adopted! Become complacent in knowing that you are an inferior life form and will never evolve into anything more!"  
  
The blazing shout of furry ended abruptly when the skool principal, a Mr. Nevers, popped his head in the door. His sickeningly vacant face with a long scar spanning from eyebrow to eyebrow would be enough to make anyone worry about making any sudden movements around him, but Ms. Bitters held no such fears.  
  
"What do you want?" she hissed in that way that only she can.  
  
"Oh... hi" came the man's voice.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Due to the green jello threat, the skool board has decided that skool will be canceling all field trips for the rest of the year." Ms. Bitters growled in annoyance at the ignorant buffoon as a unanimous "awww!" came from the classroom. Well, almost unanimous. I say this because many of the children had already passed out from heat exhaustion and there were a few still, such as that big-headed kid, who appeared to have entered a comatose state. Actually, there were only about three children who were coherent enough to make the 'awww' sound. After his message had been said, Mr. Nevers simply exited in a fashion that suited him. He walked back out the door.  
  
"Well, you heard him class..." the ancient teacher said while turning back to her class. One student in particular caught her eye and a seething rage built up inside of her. The alien was laughing so hard that, if he were human, could be appropriately described as him about to burst a lung, but, as he is not human, there is no appropriate description available. His laughter slowed considerably as he noted the teacher's death glare and slowed even more so as he noticed the three coherent children who were now concentrating their eyes on him. The teacher growled once more, but left it at that as she did not have the urge to pursue it further and was eager to return to her lesson.  
  
"And, as I was saying... they would huddle together in large piles to conserve body heat. This, obviously, was a bad idea because those in the center of the pile were crushed and suffocated under the weight, while those on the outside of the pile would freeze solid, trapping any that were under them. Inevitably, these would come to be known as 'Piles of Death'...  
  
The thing which the alien had been laughing so heartily at was now the thing which caused him to display a look of pure confusion. When the teacher had first questioned him on his activities, he had found the idea of himself being an inferior being as the single most hilarious thing he had ever heard. Shortly, hereafter, his mind had gone over the teacher's entire utterance with great care. Therein, an inconsistency was found.  
  
'I am ten times as old as you!'  
  
'She does look ancient; perhaps she knows that I am an alien invader bent on enslaving the planet! Perhaps I'm just being paranoid, but even if she didn't know, ten times is far too old for any human. Perhaps she's just senile, but... I must know!'  
  
By the end of these ponderings, a dark grin curled its way across the kid- sized invader's face. There wasn't really anything to be so evilly happy about, it was most likely done out of habit, but he had made up his mind. During the weekly library time, which coincidentally was today, Zim would look for an annual from years past and see if his hypothesis was correct.  
  
The time came. As the remaining conscious children were led out of the room, the unconscious ones were herded out by men wielding cattle prods. Eventually, after a long walk down the dirty mint-colored walls and past the door to detention rooms one through five, which were host to all sorts of torturous screams, there came a door which sported a large mocking smiley face poster with the words "Smile Though Your Life is Miserable!" in a very bold print.  
  
Zim wasted no time in finding the books in question... the annuals and began thumbing through them in search of the faculty pages. Meanwhile, Dib, and the other children who were shocked into a semi-conscious state by use of cattle prods, were forced into cushy chairs surrounding a long meeting table. It was here that they, in this shady area, were able to recuperate from the excessive exposure. When the overheated synapses of Dib's brain realized that they could successfully conduct an electrical charge once again, the boy was able conjure up enough of that thing known as common sense to remove his leather coat, revealing the one thing all Dib fans have known to be true for longer than non-Dib fans who did not dwell on such things, that Dib's shirt was short sleeved!  
  
With the removal of that incredibly hot jacket, Dib's recovery seemed to accelerate, more so than if the jacket had still been on. Shortly, he spoke his first since he had been subjugated to the terrible heat because the skool board had decided air conditioning was too risky for green jello. This word was "muah?". Shortly after this accomplishment, Dib spoke his first coherent words and was actually able to form them into a questioning sentence, something his fellow cattle-prodded classmates had yet to do. He said...  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
With the opening of his watery eyes, Dib found that he was in the library, sitting in one of about ten cushy chairs which were situated around an elongated table. He also saw his arch nemesis, a green alien with an affinity for the pompadour hairstyle, was vigorously thumbing through book after book, with his facial features becoming increasingly agitated.  
  
In fact, that agitation was brought about by a sole truth that only he knew of. In all the annuals he had looked at... from 90's to well after the 60's, all the pictures looked the same! Every picture... it appeared that Ms. Bitters hadn't aged in over thirty years! Not one thing about her had changed. It was the single most disturbing truth he had ever unearthed, even more horrible than knowing the mating rituals of the Gersplangists...  
  
Dib, thinking his enemy up to something, quickly found himself slipping into stealth mode, totally ignoring the fact that he was in a skool library. Many of the children simply stared at him as he slunk up against the wall, breathing heavily, and ducked behind a bookshelf. It upset many students when he did a tuck roll under their table. These few had the privilege of being in kicking distance of the boy. Needless to say, Dib didn't spend much time under that table. He ducked to one side of the low shelves Zim was using as a table-top while overlapping each book to examine the pictures more closely. Dib was hiding well, except for the fact that his pointy strand of hair was sticking up, above the shelf. Zim caught glimpse of this and simply stared at it for a moment as Dib jumped up, abandoning his hiding spot and slightly upset that he had not frightened the alien.  
  
"Ahah! What are you up to Zim? Huh, huh, huh, huh?" the huh's continued to come and Zim squinted an eye in confusion, then went back to studying the pictures without so much as obliging Dib with a witty response. It didn't take long for the luster of saying the word huh to wear off and Dib found himself looking down at the books Zim was so intently studying.  
  
"Hey, these are annuals!" he shrieked, happy about his discovery. Zim glanced up at him, annoyed, then back to his work, wishing he would go away.  
  
"And that's Ms. Bitters!" there was a pause as Dib leaned in to see the images closer. In doing so he almost hit the alien in the face with his pointy hair, but Zim had leaned back, out of its pokey reach.  
  
"Hey, all these pictures look the same... what year are these?" Zim pondered walking away, he had gathered all he could from these photos. Dib grabbed up a book and flipped it over. It read 1962. He stared at it goggle- eyed. Zim, slowly, began to slink away, when...  
  
"Do you know what this means?! It means that Ms. Bitters is..."  
  
"Yes, yes... ancient, old, derelict, and most of all... not human." Although all of Zim's insides demanded he not drag himself into a conversation with his arch nemesis over something they might both agree is a bad thing, Zim had this bad habit of not listening to his insides. This usually resulted in dreadful explosions, although the reason for this is not yet known. Some hypothesize that Zim is accident-prone, others still that he is insane. Whatever the reason, it has been deducted by many theologians that if Zim were to listen to his insides more often, the universe might not be such a dangerous place.  
And HA! Because this is where I end for now... I think reading Douglas Adams has altered my writing style. Ah well, do tell me what you think of this. It isn't finished at the moment, as you can see... I have about 4 unfinished fics relating to Jhonen. I have no idea when I will post any of those, but anyway... I exist... and so does that little button down there. I leave you to your moo... 


	2. Spooky Ness and Such

I'm going to have to say sorry in advance. While trying to write this, my mother decided to watch Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It was quite loud, and the TV is about 4' from the pc. This makes for a distraction. Also, mid fic, I decided to do some treatment to a fish I have that is plagued by a bacteria infection. I never realized being an aquarium hobbyist was such an expensive thing. Even though my aquarium is freshwater, I think I spent about $100 on it just yesterday. My advice to people thinking about starting an aquarium... get a good-paying job. This is off topic and has nothing to do with anything more than my life, which studies show is a boring thing. Well, I heard Dib-ship aired in Mexico, but I have yet to find it on the internet. I did, however, find Backseat Drivers. It is worth leaving your computer on all night to get. Do it... I demand... The TURKEY demands... Now, back to the actual TOPIC at HAND... yes... I write! You can't watch me write, but I assure you I am doing so. You should just take my word for it and leave it at that. The last chapter ended more abruptly than I liked. Hopefully, this one won't do the same. Read on young fanfic enthusiasts, for this is my rendition of works by Jhonen Vasquez, pirated by Nickelodeon and, like so many other good quality shows, put on a shelf to never be seen in the civilized world again... I bet 95% of you completely ignored this thingy. I'll reward you by not putting an endnote! Squee with joy...  
  
Dib paused and looked at his nemesis for quite a while, maybe a minute. Zim returned the odd glare while waiting for a reply from the big-headed boy. He would surely praise Zim for his observations. Zim is amazing after all.  
  
"I was just going to say she's the teacher that taught my dad, but now that you mention it, she does look pretty old for thirty years ago." Zim's jaw dropped.  
  
'How can humans be that stupid?!' he thought to himself while those overworked synapses in Dib's head began to do that firing thing again.  
  
"If what you're hinting at is true, then what should we do?"  
  
"We?! We will not do anything!" Zim demanded in a demanding way that was demanding. "I have no urge to consort with such a primitive being as you, monkey-man! I will investigate this by myself; I need no help from primitive vertebrates such as yourself." Zim gave a dismissing wave as if to shoo Dib, the paranormally paranoid investigator of any and all discrepancies, no matter how trivial or irrelevant they may be.  
  
"You can't be serious! This could be important! If Ms. Bitters isn't human then she could pose a threat to the class, the town, mankind..."  
  
"Pshaw," Zim interrupted with a dismissing wave. "Whatever it is she might be up to, she's been up to it for quite some time now. It is very doubtful that the effects of this will show up any time soon as they have yet to do so. You should leave it to another generation of your dull-brained monkey brethren to uncover." Dib stared flabbergasted. How could Zim not want to help? Oh yeah, he's not human. He wouldn't care about the affairs of mankind, even if he was subjected to the same mental torture of the Bitters woman daily.  
  
"Have you noticed how the other children's minds work? They won't be able to figure this out! This is a job for... us!" Dib had taken up a position atop the shelf and, if this were a cartoon, there would be action lines outlining him at this very moment. And, as this is a cartoon, you can be assured that they are there... yup... in Technicolor...  
  
"What?! No! Not us, earth-boy! I have already expressed my thoughts on working with such a slow, dull-witted, annoying, pathetic, freaky, disturbing, infuriating..."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait... enough description, okay. I get enough of that from the others not to hear it from you to."  
  
"But... I... always talk about you like that," Zim stated in shock.  
  
"Oh, okay then. But seriously Zim, Ms. Bitters must be stopped!" Zim pondered this for a moment.  
  
"Hmm..."  
  
Dib and Zim spent the rest of the library class squabbling over teaming up and not teaming up. Dib wanted to team up, but Zim demanded he remain on his own, which led to them forgetting that the annuals were out, and sneaking away before either of them had to put them up again. They both secretly hoped Mr. Nevers wouldn't find out it was they who left the annuals out and forced him to pay the library clerk more, thus endangering the green jello. Inevitably, the two decided no to decide on anything and left it at that, but eventually, the class ended and Dib had made plans of his own.  
  
Today, he would not be home on time. No one would make an observation of this, especially not his gamer sister. He really looked down on her for her lack of commitment to the real world, but what he didn't know was that ten years from now, his sister would be competing against other gamers for money and would be making up to $10,000 a pop. He also didn't know that people in his world were already doing this and that if he had become more enthralled by games at an early age, that he too might have a bright future ahead of him. His choice to lead a paranormally paranoid life ensured his longsuffering.  
  
Dib chose to observe Ms. Bitters. He knew that all teachers had the odd habit of staying far after the last student had vacated the classroom, but the reason why eluded him. Perhaps it was in the job description, but still the facts remained. No one really knew where Ms. Bitters had set up residence in this odd little town. Deftly, he snuck around the building and peered over the windowsill.  
  
I wouldn't describe the window as hideous; it was more closely described as dilapidated beyond any hope of repair. A long spindly crack, emanating from the upper left of the pane had worked its way down toward the glass' center, dirt marks left the indentation where a four square ball had once hit it with full force, chunks of organic matter were clinging to it effortlessly, and, in all, it was quite hard to see through, yet Dib found himself straining to look inside.  
  
This particular side of the building was host to a not-so-trim row of hedges which ended rather abruptly at the start of the windows. Often, tiny little squirrels and like wildlife would use the bushes as shelter and an over all happy stomping ground, but today, the bush wasn't just inhabited by fuzzy woodland creatures. The first thing that clued Dib in to this fact was that the bush was shaking.  
  
"Ah, a shaking bush..." Dib thought aloud. "Wait, bushes don't shake." Dib looked over at the bush just in time to see a not so secretive Zim come tumbling out. Disregarding the fact that he had just unceremoniously plopped out of a bush, making quite a lot of noise and drawing a few odd glares from dull-witted children, Zim leapt to his feet and gazed up over the windowsill and into the classroom just as Dib had done moments before. As for Dib, the alien hadn't seemed to notice the boy standing mere feet from him.  
  
"Hey Zim" Dib stated, confused by that very fact. The alien, caught off guard, squealed out in the sudden shock of it all and quickly averted his attention.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Zim demanded.  
  
"Spying on Ms. Bitters" Dib stated plainly in such a plain way that it has been decided by plain people of the plain planes of Berugia III that it was so plainly plain, and in a plain way, that it would be nominated to become the slogan of the Plainly Plain Group of Plain People's Plain Organization of Plainness, also known as the PPGPPPOP, or One PG Two POP.  
  
"No," Zim demanded. "I called it first!" With such emotion he did say this.  
  
"Okay..." Dib gave up on trying to win this one and turned to look back through the grimy window, hoping to catch a glimpse of that creepy non- human woman he called his teacher.  
  
"Hey!" Zim yelled in such a way that Dib was frightened the teacher-thing on the other side of the glass would hear him. "Scram earth-boy! This is my thing I do!" Zim showed slight emotional frustration in stumbling over his words which only made him glare at the boy with more spite and hatred than before. "Now go!" In a wild act of gesticulation, Zim thrust a finger in the general direction of the sidewalk. As sidewalks are things made of poured concrete and not capable of any deductive reasoning, it didn't mind that it was being pointed at.  
  
"Look Zim, I'm here for one thing, to see if what you pointed out about Ms. Bitters is true, and I'm not leaving until I uncover the truth." Dib said in his self-righteous way. Come to think of it, there are a lot of self- righteous people in this world, as in people who think highly of themselves or at least when claiming they are going to destroy the world or when professing that their teacher is something other than human.  
  
"Fine, monkey thing, but this was my idea, and I'm not about to abandon it because of you."  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
The two had reached a standoff and spent the rest of this observation time ignoring one another by actually observing that which they had decided to observe. Through that grimy glass, was their teacher, Ms. Bitters. She sat, unmoving, at her desk for much longer than a few minutes. As time lapsed into whatever it is that time lapses into, both Zim and Dib were slowly drained of any enthusiasm they might have had at the beginning of the activity. Minutes turned into hours and still the teacher sat, vacantly staring forward into the unoccupied desks. Eventually, darkness covered the land. Dib became excided over this as he thought it might mean it was nighttime, but when he turned to look skyward, his view was obstructed by a rather large and sweaty man riding a lawnmower across the sod.  
  
A little while later, an actual nighttime came as the sun slipped slowly into madness... I mean, over the distant hills and into madness... I mean oblivion... Yeah, that's it... yeah. Either way, the sun dipped and darkness flood the land. This is when their teacher made her move with a sickening creak and popping of joints which was, oddly enough, easily heard through the concrete wall. At first, the ancient woman bent her head to the side. Then, with much effort, she shoved herself into a standing position.  
  
The complex events that came next were so horrifically complex, that they completely hid the fact that they weren't really complex at all. With a flick of the wrist, accompanied by a blood curdling snap, the woman thrust her index finger down onto a button which had magically appeared not so far away but not quite exactly on the corner of her desk. Both Zim and Dib stared in awe at the much more complex series of events that followed. It will be noted that this series of events was, indeed, quite complex and therefore much different from the other complex series of events from before that really weren't all that complex to begin with...  
  
And here I end... add= "insert_subliminal_review_command_here"8}/end 


	3. Associated With Nothing

I have found it in myself to be able to do stuff... like write this chapter which should have been out last weekend. I blame my sick dog in ICU at the vet's. You can blame her too... go ahead... blame the old bitch! Well, I have been doing something with the time I haven't spent updating this story, and that is trying to restart my long deceased website. It will NEVER be moving again! Or at least not for the next two years, for I have purchased a domain name... yup! I still have many many pages to code, but it's Lizzy733.net. Now, smile and laugh at me because you fully intend to avoid that site at all costs, as you also plan to avoid reviewing this chapter by pressing that little x button up there. Anyway, read... you toaster pasties!  
  
*Ode to Disclaim* The evil vermin known as Nickelodeon duct taped our super hero, Jhonen Vasquez, to a metal folding chair and tickled his feet with feathers from a chicken farm, where they kill millions of walking drumsticks daily, until he finally resigned all his lovely rights to his incredibly squishy creations of doom. They then proceeded to hoard the episodes away from us, the dedicated cult/obsessive fanatics, and only air them in foreign countries with the aid of subtitles and odd voice-overs. Does this mean that Nickelodeon is a rat bastard? No it does not. It means that I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this piece. You should be able to gather that.  
Some things never change. They are a constant reminder that life, in all its mediocrity, is not a spontaneous thing. Gir is not one of these things. In fact, he is probably the most polar opposite you can get from constant. Whether it's the two year old ball of chewing gum from a dispenser machine in the main lobby of the planet Innia or a stergist, the lowest coin in the Irken monies system, constantly tumbling about the lack of circuitry in the pint sized robot's head, making tiny dints and scratches as it bumps along, no one is quite certain. It could be the most recent addition to the mechanism's lack of workable machine parts, a partially chewed squeak toy that had once been the possession of an elderly dog living three houses down which was sitting by the open window one day when it inadvertently choked on a guppy and died, knocking the chew toy to the ground where it could be found by any random robot from outer space which happened to be traipsing around. No, it couldn't be that. This was a problem long before the squeak toy incident... For whatever reason, whether it be loose change or a play thing of the deceased, the unit known as Gir had an uncanny lack of ability to stay in one place and do any simple act for more than 4.5 seconds. There is, however, an exception to the rule and that is monkeys, but we won't address that now for monkeys are not present at the moment... only the robot is.  
  
Staring at it could possibly make one's eyes pop forth from one's skull, or one's spleen bleed uncontrollably, but the most common reaction is a whole adoration for the cute little maniac. Imbued with such loveable properties, it's no wonder that this masquerading pooch is the life of all the local parties. When the sun sets, Gir is on the town. Parties appease his anxy nature by allowing him plenty of stimulating activities all happening at once, so he doesn't have to become bored by having his attention diverted for more than the proven 4.5 seconds.  
  
Where would our little hero of the nightlife be as the sun is setting? Why, at the local club, of course, and here it is. The Technotica isn't the 'hippest' place in town, but with the addition of an artificial thing able to mimic actual intelligence and cuteness, it's easily dubbed the place to be for the time being. I wouldn't deny that this falsified doggy has a myriad of groupie girls who follow him everywhere he goes, in turn, followed by countless guys hoping that, maybe, if they 'hang around' our local Gir, they might have a smidgen of a better chance at getting laid. This is a funny thing, but look! Gir is doing that thing he does with his hips that makes all the ladies want to go to bed with him, regardless to the fact of how disturbing that would be to you... the reader. At this point, might I add, the hour is somewhere around 12 am, and the party is just starting to get interesting. Gir won't return home until well after 3, as is his usual habit.  
  
He's doing that other thing now... and... Oh God, he's got a glow stick. I think that's a good place to stop this here explanation of Gir's nightly 'duties' to the popularity of local night clubs. At this moment, as Gir busies himself with keeping his lack of mind occupied, he has no idea of the fate that is about to befall his beloved master and that kid person with the big head who is always trying to break into his house, for at this very moment... things don't look too well for the destructive duo...  
  
*And thus endith the session*  
  
This chapter must seem meaningless and make the story sound plotless, yes? Well, you're WRONG! It's here for a reason... not that I'm in the mood to talk about Gir and his sexiness, which I have heard is akin to the sexiness found in Filler Bunny's buck teeth, and it has not to do with a little foreshadowing of doom. No, it all has to do with the style I am writing in. Rambling is the key here and if you've ever read a book by Douglas Adams, you should expect this sort of thing... so survive like you always do because it would be really dumb to commit some gratuitous act against yourself because of this stupid story. Now review... or I might get the urge to do some gratuitous act against your self because of this stupid story... 8} 


	4. Some Stuff Happens

What took me so long to update this? I have no excuse! NO excuse! I'm just a cruddy author. Just hope that if I ever get a comic published that I don't spend months... nay YEARS... getting out the second issue. Anyway... this is NOT one of my infamously stupid comics; this is a Jhonen fanfic; a fanfic whose characters belong to Jhonen... not I.  
*Time... Dusk*  
  
Filled with much enthusiasm, as things were actually happening, Dib and Zim both took up positions on their respective sides of the window. Yes, quite some time ago and for no discernable reason, Zim had made a big show of painting a nice thick line of paint from a conveniently placed can of whitewash right through the center of the window, down the building, and across the grass all the way to the sidewalk, which still didn't care all too much for what was going on. What prompted this truncation of the Dib was still unknown as the act had been done completely at random and turned Dib's attention for no less than a millisecond... no longer than one either!  
  
Aside from all this... stuff... things were happening inside that building! For, with the push of a button, the grinding of stone and metal could be heard. A long staircase began to descend from the desk, curling its way towards the classroom door and then jutting in to the board. As the floor made its descent, the two young boys looked on in awe... well more like one young boy and a not so reputable space alien who could wrongly be described as being older than dirt, but is most likely just older than anything on the planet... excluding trees... we don't know why the trees are excluded, but last I heard, they were gathering their lawyers and preparing to sue over the exclusion of leafy individuals.  
  
The classroom, which had become drowned in shadow as the sun set, was now illuminated by another force not known as electricity. Shadows danced across the walls as the being Dib and Zim had come to know as not being entirely of the human race descended the torch-lit staircase.  
  
Zim turned away from the spectacle, wide-eyed and slid down the side of the building until he plopped down on the poorly watered grass. It, unlike the sidewalk, was a living thing and cared very much that it was being sat on, but had no mouth to protest and sadly was forced to suffer the pain.  
  
"That's disturbing," Zim uttered. "I think the seams of that evil secret staircase of doom are more well-hidden than the evil secret staircase of doom I have back at the base."  
  
"What evil secret staircase of doom?!"  
  
"Oh, I mean evil secret staircase of doom which was never installed because of cost cutting sanctions put in by our military, which I ignored and set up anyway, but it was never installed so it's not really there... in writing..." Zim tacked that last part on the end very quickly as to evade Dib's non-spidery senses. It appears to have worked as Dib has remained at the windowsill this entire time, staring into the existing staircase which has remained much longer than their teacher. A few moments of silence passed as Zim fretfully tried to think of how to make his "non-existent" staircase more secretive.  
  
"Let's go find a way to get in there!" Dib suddenly exclaimed. This caught Zim off guard, as many of Dib's random outbursts often did, and he jumped.  
  
"Could you stop that?" the alien/child/invader/all-around-bad-guy/being/old- person-but-not-as-old-as-many-sueing-trees exclaimed in a squealed whisper.  
  
Dib turned his head. With the large amount of data and possibilities quickly rushing through his mind, that had done little more than confuse the boy by catching him off guard. "Stop what?"  
  
Zim, without answering immediately, began to flail his arms in a very characteristic manner. "That randomity thingy!"  
  
"Oh... let's go find a way to get in there..."  
  
"Okay..." Zim, with some diplomacy, stood. "Wait. You want me... to go in there..."  
  
"Yes"  
  
"...down that set of stairs..."  
  
"Yes"  
  
"...to my doom..."  
  
"Untimely doom"  
  
"...when I could be at home devising a diabolical plot which you would be none the wiser and go off chasing spooky skool teachers which are probably just really eccentric old fools with a fetish for living in the classrooms they toil in day in and day out?"  
  
Dib paused and pondered his next utterance carefully before proceeding..."yes."  
  
"Oh okay..."  
  
And with that, out two not so heroic heroes of nothing at all save their own dignity, went to the painful task of breaking into the last building any who have to face the traumatic skool experience would even think to invade, save these two. We don't know why they would do this either.  
  
*this is the end... stop reading monkey mooch... more to come... *squeaky whisper* hopefully... *back to that loud obnoxious voice now**  
  
I have actually completed a chapter... that's scary. Sorry, I've been caught up in a wave lacking in productivity. I have now updated... I feel proud of this... it took me an hour and a half to write this... I keep sneezing and I don't know why. Hopefully, my brains won't be forced out my skull. I really don't want to have to cram them back inside like last time... especially with finals next week. Pray for Meeeee! X&O Lizzy733 8} 


	5. And Someone Gets Hurt

I really do exist... and this time, my absence has not been lacking in productivity. You should see the art section of my website. I have coded the entire thing this week alone! All those pictures... they were scanned anew and edited in this length of time as well. Plus, I spent a whole night devising this 3d Zim in Maya. You should go look at my screenshot for it! Anyway... if you think I own such things as Zim and that Trinity-like jacket at Hot Topic well you're wrong!! I just own the jacket. not Zim.  
  
This would be the start of The Frighteningly Horrible Truth About Ms Bitters 5... and that's what it is...  
  
With all the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Dib could barely keep his head straight. He had been searching for the unnatural for what, his whole life? And this teacher, the one he had been warned about ever since starting at this particular education facility, was something evil and he hadn't even noticed. It almost made him feel his classmates were justified for not believing in Zim's origins... almost.  
  
Dib, with Zim following a few feet behind, walked up to the door of the facility and tried it, never thinking that it most likely was locked. And, as he pressed down on the handle and gave it a forceful tug, he was met with opposition.  
  
"What do you think you are doing, earth slug?" Dib paused mid tug and looked back at Zim who had followed him up the steps to the covered entrance. "Even I know it is an act in foolishness to leave one's doors unlocked after your wretched sun has descended from its position above high to mingle with the evil NESS of the Dark!" Dib spun around and glared at Zim.  
  
"I know that! I was just..."  
  
"You were just what?" Zim snapped immediately.  
  
"Well, since you're Mr. Know-it-all space alien... thing... how do you think we should get in?"  
  
"Simple..."  
  
Well, ten minutes later, Dib and Zim are on the complete other side of the skool and still looking for a means of entry.  
  
"I thought you said you knew how to get us in Zim!" Dib quipped.  
  
"I said no such thing!" Zim snapped in retaliation while looking for a permeable area in the structure. "You assumed I did." Dib stared at Zim for a long moment before sighing and resting his large head in his hands. As Zim searched a camera positioned strategically on the roof zoomed in on the two.  
  
"Hey!" Dib exclaimed, suddenly looking up from his desperation. "What about one of those windows?" He pointed to a row of top hinged, mesh covered windows aligning the upper part of the wall. "Maybe, if we find a way up there... and are able to get the windows open... we can get in! Zim! ... Zim?"  
  
Dib looked to both his left and right, but the Irken was nowhere to be seen. He then returned his gaze to the window, seeking none other than Zim, hanging from the low tin roof by his spidery mechanical arms and prying at the window with his gloved fingers. After a few moments of struggling with the thing, the window could hold out no longer and gave, allowing the inhuman creature to pry it outwards and begin his entrance.  
  
"Great, now give me a hand up." Dib exclaimed as Zim slipped inside, allowing the window to fall shut behind him. "Zim?"  
  
"Find your own way in!" he could hear from inside the building.  
  
"Drat" Dib looked around himself for anything he could use to gain leverage and enter the building. The nearest thing was an air conditioning unit to his left. The boy quickly ran over and leapt up to grab the sides. His first attempt failed, as did his second. After rubbing the bruise he had acquired on his bulbous head, Dib tried again. This time, instead of missing completely, he was able to hook the very tips of his fingers on the edge. What he was not prepared for, however, was the knowledge that his three fingertips neither had the strength to support him, nor did they seem to like him much.  
  
With a pained shriek, Dib tried to maintain a grip, but only succeeded in pulling the muscle of his pinky finger. Dib fell to the ground in a heap, and immediately righted himself. Looking to his fingers, he noticed how red they were and vowed never to try and jump onto one of those things ever again.  
  
He exhaled sharply and, once again, came to the task of finding a way in. Deducting that there were no means of entry visible from his current position, Dib continued the walk where he and Zim had left off as the silently watching camera whirred with a turning of gears. After venturing around the air system, Dib came to a sight that not only shocked him, but filled him with a deep rage. For there, on the other side of the air conditioning, was a crate which came half way up the oversized machine.  
  
Dib sighed and walked sullenly to the crate, making some spectacle out of climbing it. The exaggerated way in which he did this only served to pain his fingers more and after achieving half his goal, the boy pouted over the state of his pinky, which was slowly growing in size. Dib finally made his way up the massive structure and looked for his entrance.  
  
The fact that he had scaled the entire thing and was nowhere close to any windows really put him off, but Dib was not a quitter! He would find a way into that building, he would save the world from unspeakable doom, and he would some day own a pony... that day seemed so far away.  
  
END  
  
And here I end another installment of ness. I really should update more often and I am sorry, really! I practically kick myself for this type of thing! I have been working on Lizzy733.net though and I must admit, it's starting to come together nicely. I'd like to thank those of you who have been reviewing this stink thing and also Zim for being a sexy beast. and Dib for being a whiny bitch... and... am I leaving anyone out. oh yes... Gaz for her ness... and Gir for his gyrating hips, which have often been a source of inspiration... and Jesus for being suicidal... and the mongoose... for having a head... and that's it... I think. If I left out anyone do tell me! 


	6. More Ness

I felt like writing folks, so I did. Yay! I have pretty much decided my writing is going to hell so this is my attempt at actually writing something readable that moves the story along at a little more than a snail's pace... now it's about to an ant's pace. This is a good change! So here's your disclaimer... Invader Zim is the property of a bunch of meanie Mongoose Heads who have something against Moose. Ever seen Happy Tree Friends? It will rot your brain. I own nothing. I want ramen noodles, but I'm out... this is a treachery. I will carry on with my ownlessness. Chao!  
  
It's Part #6  
  
We are in the cafeteria folks! Don't question it, for that is where we are. You can gather this from the sight of empty hot food wells and a stack of trays. That is all you can see for the moment, but you soon her something, oh and what a sound it is! It sounded something like *smack* *bang* *thunk*. The fact that these noises are not common place in such a setting as this at the late hour in which it is, is something that might come to mind if you were to continue to sit behind that rack of trays while staring out at a bunch of empty food wells. You can move you know, and if you were to move, if you dared peek your head over the side of the trays and out towards the empty lunchroom, you would see a trashcan laid on its side. With its contents now freely exposed to the world, the massive plastic container lolls from side to side in an attempt to catch its bearings.  
  
There it sat, innards being promptly displayed outwards, pondering how it had ever come to such a compromising position. It would have recalled the loud *smack* noise and its resounding *bang* with a follow up of *thunk* if it had ears for such, but as garbage cans have only been graced with sentient thought and handles, it could not. Another thing that irked it about the whole mess was its lack of sight. Sure a garbage can will guess its orientation, but without this sense, it was left wondering who or what had been responsible.  
  
It faintly thought of blaming its neighbor, the green bin (the fact that they know their colors from production is not so much a knowledge of such things, but the assigning of colors according to personality such as a red bin being inherently stupid and a yellow bin being inherently dirty), for its desperate fate, but gave up on that because it knew neither it or its neighbor were able to move of their own accord.  
  
It all seemed to be so very bothersome. Stripped of senses as it was, the can began to ponder whether it had, in deed, been overturned at all. This line of reasoning led way to another and eventually the can had worked itself into a rut and you have wasted all this time mulling over the ponderings of a trash receptacle when you could have been looking three feet to the right where the cause of this disturbance was hiding behind the fallen bin's compatriot, green bin.  
  
It was a little hard to make out in the dark, but I'm sure you've been eating carrots now haven't you? If you have then you should be fine; if not, you're buggered. With your lack of carrot eating enthusiasm, you have cost yourself a first rate glimpse of the perpetrator. This doesn't matter anyway for I will tell you who it is.  
  
It is Dib, who has finally managed his way into the building, but it wasn't easy. First the boy had to climb his way onto the roof, which was not without conflict. In the action, he caused a sprain in his pointer finger on the same hand as his previous wound. But, in due course of time, Dib made his way over to the window which Zim had tampered with and, by some mad act against gravity, was able to fall into the opening that was closed when he made for it.  
  
The fact that he had cheated gravity on his entrance was enough to perturb the old chap, who made up for it the second he had cleared the window. This resulted in a loud *smack* *bang* and *thunk*. Dib had quickly tried to recover from the initial shock of the relatively bad landing by tuck- rolling to the nearest cover.  
  
He now sat listening; hoping nothing had heard his graceless fall. When he was sure a sufficient amount of time had passed, Dib ventured away from the cafeteria and exited it through slightly ajar doors.  
  
Dib now recklessly, yet somehow quietly, ran down the empty, poor lit, skool halls. He turned the corner leading to his classroom, causing a slight skidding sound he hoped was inconsequential. From this point, Dib proceeded slowly, allowing himself to catch his breath and listen for anything that might be a threat.  
  
He did in deed hear something threatening and froze in place. The sound was scratchy, almost like the sound of metal on metal... it really sounded like... *Smack* Dib felt himself being forced to the ground by an unseen attacker. He was about to let out a *gah* of help, but felt a gloved hand being forced over his noise hole, resulting in a muffled gah that was still sufficient to get his point across.  
  
"Shh!" snapped the glove, or rather the owner of the glove. To my knowledge, gloves don't speak. If you've ever heard one do so, please inform me.  
  
Slowly, the wielder of the glove released his hold and allowed the boy to stand. Dib did stand, and brushed himself off.  
  
"Gee Zim, do you think you could have freaked me out just a little bit more?" The alien, who was having a nice chuckle over his stealthy skills, suddenly stopped to ponder.  
  
"You think I could have done better?" Dib glared.  
  
"It's called sarcasm Zim."  
  
"I know all about your petty sarcasm and its masterful applications!"  
  
"I don't think you do." It was now Zim's turn to glare.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Dib, having had enough of the conversation, made his way the rest of the distance to their classroom door. Zim would have hated to admit it, but he had been waiting for Dib this entire time. As far as he knew, Dib's curiosity often affected his judgment and he was much more likely to be compliant when forced to go first. Zim simply had a stronger sense of self preservation over such childish thoughts. Zim hung back, hoping Dib would simply take the lead... and also any gunfire that might erupt at a second's notice.  
  
Dib did so oblige, completely oblivious to any of this. Carefully, he eased open the classroom door and peered in. What he expected to see and what he saw were very different. He had expected to see a gaping hole in the ground, leading down into the bowels of the facility and unearthing of a deep dark secret conspiracy that had been going on for over thirty years. What he say was floor, for Zim had shoved him from behind when he had not opened the door fully.  
  
"Where is it?" Zim asked in a frustrated tone. Dib moaned as he eased himself off the ground.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The stairwell, the stairwell, it's gone!" Dib opened one eye testingly and was able to see that, in deed, the Irken had been right. The torch lit staircase that had been present not fifteen minutes ago was now missing in action. Zim was frantically looking for the seams of the device.  
  
"There has to be something!" Zim exclaimed, beginning to get a bit loud while Dib went over to the desk, looking for signs of the button Ms. Bitters had pushed to summon the stairwell.  
  
"There aren't any seams in this!" Zim shrieked after a moment of frantic clawing at the ground. "It's impossible, but they aren't here!"  
  
"Zim, shh! The controls aren't here either."  
  
"Well that's stupid! How are we supposed to get down there?" Zim snapped, this time lowering the level of his voice to a harsh screech.  
  
"... ... I think I have an idea..."  
  
MONGOOSE HEAD!! (aka it's over) 


End file.
